A couple of weeks ago we decided that the boy was ready for a regular bed.
Ready as in, when he would lay down to sleep his feet practically touched the end of the toddler bed. He only had the length of my hand left to grow. We shopped around and decided that something with storage would be best in the long-term: His room is small-ish, and once he’s grown, space is going to be at a premium.
We decided on a “captain’s bed.” It has a short headboard and footboard and five drawers on one side. The middle set of drawers is actually one deep drawer.
Its a tall bed — tall for me to get into. That little step stool in the picture doesn’t help him at all. We ended up putting a kitchen chair in front of the opening, and the step stool in front of that. So in the morning, when he’s groggy, its a gradual step down from the chair.
We’ve done a lot of practicing that whole “feet first” thing.
His toddler bed is actually a convertible crib.
It converts from a crib to a toddler bed to a full-size headboard and footboard.
But a full bed would be way too big for his room, so someday, when he moves out, he’ll have a full-size headboard and footboard to take with him.
We tried to buy for the long-term.
As for his new bed, I haven’t even filled the drawers yet. They’re completely empty.
But I know that someday soon, I’m going to need to take down his changing table and put in a desk or a coloring table or playhouse or something. And he’ll need the storage space.
We spend a lot of time in that bed. He likes for me to climb in and cuddle with him on weekend mornings and for the Hubbs to climb in and name all his stuffed animals in the afternoons.
Allie loves it in there too — although she has no sense of self-preservation and will crawl right off the edge if we’re not paying attention. (No worries, we’ve caught her every time so far!)
Passing Things Down
If you look at the picture of him in his new bed, you’ll see a faded blanket. When I found out I was pregnant the first time, I pulled that blanket out of my cedar chest and ran it through the gentle cycle, stitched up some of the fraying ends, and put it in his future closet.
That was my bunny blanket. Now his bunny blanket.
It has some pictures and text from the “Peter Rabbit” story on it. At one point, the yellow fabric edging was a vibrant yellow. It has faded over the years. (I also can’t find it anywhere online, although I know it was popular back when I was a kid — my cousin had the same blanket.)
It was on my bed for as long as I can remember, because it kept me the perfect temperature at night. Not too hot, not too cold. I didn’t even have to pull a leg out for temperature control. It was on my bed when I met my husband (I can’t believe I just admitted that), and it stayed there until we moved in together. At that point, I put it away, saving it for our children.
It makes me ridiculously happy to see it on his bed. He loves that blanket, calls it “Me bee-wet.” (Translation: My blanket.) And when he’s trying to fall asleep, if he’s thrashed around too much and kicks it off — he’ll do one of two things:
- Get out of bed and knock on his door. When I open it, he’ll turn, climb back into bed, lay down, and tell me he wants to be tucked in again; or
- Call to me from his bed — he knows I’m a sucker for him calling out for “mommy”. When I open the door, and ask him what he wants he’ll tell me “me bee-wet”.
The added benefit of handing it down to the next generation? When we cuddle on Saturday mornings, I get to snuggle under the blanket too.
In a lot of ways, it was insanely stressful, because Sean wanted to run and play at the park and didn’t want his picture taken at all. Allie, on the other hand, couldn’t crawl yet; add that to her love of the camera, and we’ve got a ton of pictures featuring her hamming it up.
Can I just say that I love that she hams it up? She amuses me to no end.
We found a daily deal for a blown-up picture and ordered our two favorite pictures of the kids. Now we have to find frames for them.
Confession: I have not hung a SINGLE picture in this house. I keep meaning to. I print pictures out so I’ll do it. And then when it comes time to put photos into frames and get them on the wall … it never gets done.
I would also like to mention this little tidbit: The photo of me and Sean at the right? It’s a bit of a monumental photo. It marks the first time he has looked at the camera and smiled.
It wasn’t an action shot of him laughing or smiling at someone else. It wasn’t because someone was standing behind the photographer and making funny faces.
The fact that he’s smiling like that, while in my arms and hugging me is just gravy. Speaking of which …
Man That Kid Can Hug
Sean gives the best hugs. He’ll walk up to you, get as humanly close to your body as possible, wrap his arms around your neck — tightly — and lay his head on your shoulder.
And then he squeezes. And unicorns and flying fuzzy bears come bursting out of my heart.
He’s been very affectionate lately. I am most definitely not complaining.